


War and Loss

by lunarweather



Series: Pieces of War [1]
Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Bullying, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Son Relationship, ostracized
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarweather/pseuds/lunarweather
Summary: Barron Battle is a villain. A fact that has upturned the lives of his wife and their seven year old son Warren and ostracized them from the Super community. Torn between hating his father and the loyal love someone can only have for family, Warren attempts to make his own  way in life but is there really any way to escape the shadow of his father?





	1. Life Did Not Stop

 

 

 

 

 

_“Life did not stop, and one had to live.”_   
_\- War and Peace_

 

 

 

 

“This is for the best sweetheart.”

Warren had been pulling things out of cardboard boxes but turned his head to look at his mom with his good eye as she passed his room carrying more boxes. She kept saying things like that since the move to Camdenville was announced. He didn’t know why. He had never complained about it. Why would he? Here at least no one would know who his father was.

Warren’s hand came up to touch his swollen eye. A week later and the swelling still hadn’t gone down completely. He shook his head; it had been stupid to go to school that day.

He had come home like any other day but was greeted by the police and people from his mom’s work. Apparently his father had gone on a rampage and government buildings had been destroyed. People were buried alive; others were burned to death.

Why? His dad was a superhero. He was Inferno. He wasn’t a villain. But somewhere deep inside Warren knew his father could be one. It wasn’t one moment in time that made him accept it so quickly but so many over the years. They mainly happened when his mom wasn’t around, when it was just him and his dad, when they were playing games or doing those endless meditation lessons. Maybe that was why he had never mentioned it to his mom, it made him feel important that his dad trusted him with some secrets. He would say things about the government, the place of citizens, how things were going to change. Warren never really understood what he meant when he started talking about those things but he would always end it by placing his hand on Warren’s shoulder and telling him that he would understand someday. Warren was just happy to spend time with his dad. Then he came home from school on some random day and walked into hell.

No one could find his dad. He wasn’t captured at the scene. So far he was still at large. At large without a secret identity. He didn’t wear a mask. He had yelled his name as the citizens had fled before him. It made a statement. As a hero he would wear a mask, hide his face, but this, he wanted the world to know who he was. The Bureau had covered it up as best that they could. To regular citizens, Barron Battle was a fire-starting, mad bomber terrorist, they kept the fact that he was a Super and especially the fact that he had been Inferno, a secret.

Barron Battle was now the most wanted criminal in the city, and, most likely, the nation.

So why had Warren gone to school the next day? His mom had been so busy with the police and the Bureau agents that she hadn’t noticed him leave that morning. Of course it was unsafe. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

He had wanted, needed, to see his friends. He hadn’t been allowed to use the phone. He wasn’t able to call anyone. None of the adults would talk to him except to ask him if he knew where his father was. He needed someone, anyone.

He had been attacked by a group of kids on the playground before he even reached the school. His left eye was swollen shut by the time he was thrown to the ground. He had had a few seconds before the onslaught continued to scan the angry crowd, his eyes locked onto one in particular, Kyle, his friend, the reason he had come to school. That was when the tears had come. He didn’t have friends anymore.

He didn’t know what his father had been planning to do. He didn’t help him kill all of those people. But somehow it was his fault.

Later, after a teacher had rescued him, after he had gone to the hospital and his mom had taken him home, he heard her accusing the agents of letting it happen. That they didn’t go get him at school the first day and didn’t stop him from going today, to draw Barron out. Warren’s mom was a very calm person, so, he figured if she was yelling at them like that, it was probably true.

Warren sighed and pushed another box labeled ‘Warren Peace Clothes’ toward his dresser.

Warren Peace.

His mom had made sure to write it on all of his boxes, even the boxes that were already labeled, in case he had forgotten, he guessed. It would take some getting used to.

Apparently his mom didn’t need much convincing either to believe his dad had gone villain. Warren didn’t hear her protest at all, tell the government they had made a mistake or even wait for Baron to show up to tell his side of the story before she was changing their last names and moving across country.

Warren pulled one of his boxes over and began pulling things out, then stopped. He looked at the side of the box to make sure it was his name written there; it was, but this wasn’t his stuff. It was his dad’s. He looked at his name again, not the one written by his mom, but the other. It was written in his dad’s handwriting. Had the police gone through it? They had taken everything they thought belonged to Baron. With a quick scan of the contents he realized why it hadn’t been taken; it looked like a box of board games. Technically it was, but he also knew that it was much more.

They were strategy exercises. His dad may not have been the smartest when it came to everyday things, he remembered his mom getting frustrated when she had to once again explain how to work the washing machine, but when it came to making plans he was a master. A Super, actually. Pyrokinesis was his obvious power, but not many outside of the government knew that Barron had a second power, and most that did know didn’t classify it as a power. But whether anyone believed it or not, Barron had a power for strategy and, according to his dad, so did most Battles’; it was how they got their name.

Carefully, Warren began pulling out the games; Chinese checkers, regular checkers, chess, Risk, Go; he let out a short laugh when he pulled out Jenga. Next came the city maps. His dad always said that Risk was too limited so they began playing it on real maps; more pieces got involved, then there were no longer armies, “They’re too large, it makes it easy for your enemy to fight you. Cloak and dagger is the way to go, so they won’t know where to aim, keep ‘em guessing.” It had sounded good to him but he also remembered thinking that the good guys didn’t do that, they didn’t attack first, they defended.

He opened one of the maps. It was of a large city. Banks, schools, government buildings, police departments were clearly defined. On the top right, written in crayon, were the response times of the local superheroes. Warren remembered playing this map only a few months before. His dad always won, whether he was the ‘heroes’ or the ‘villains’. He always said being the villain was harder.

“The scales are tipped against them. You have to be really good to win. If you’re just lucky then they’ll get you next time.”

Warren was never lucky playing against his father so he decided that he was going to have to get good. This map was his. His father was surprised when Warren announced that he was going to be the villain this time and then stunned speechless when his son won. He studied the map silently the next few minutes, looking at Warren then back at the map a few times. Warren had begun to get worried, then his father laughed out loud and slapped him on the back.

“Beat me at a strategy game, wait till I tell your mother!”

“No!” he had cried out in panic. It had taken him three months to get all the information he needed; sewer lines, electric plans; someone normally couldn’t get that kind of information, let alone an eight year old. His mom worked for the Global Superhero Bureau and he had used her personal computer to get into the system. If she found out he would be beyond dead.

His dad frowned and looked at the map again. Warren expected to get chewed out but his dad had kept quiet about it. Every once in awhile he would slap him on the back and give him a real proud look. It always made Warren’s day, that his dad still remembered, but at the same time it would remind Warren that he had betrayed his mom’s trust. His dad continued to win after that but he never stopped reminding Warren that he had beaten his old man once.

Warren quickly put everything back into the box and kicked it over to the door. He didn’t want it in his room. Didn’t want any reminder of his dad. How could he do this to them? Become a villain? Force them uproot their live to run from his infamy?

How could he leave them?

Warren bit back a sob. He couldn’t even hate his father right for doing this. He couldn’t make himself stop wanting his father to come through the door and hold him; to play those stupid games with him. But he wasn’t going to, why would he?

Warren took a deep breath. If he had learned anything because of all of this it was that no one else was going to be there for him and his mom. So he needed to stop crying and deal with it.

 

 

 

 


	2. Good Fortune

 

 

 

“I often think how unfairly life's good fortune is sometimes distributed.”  
-War and Peace

 

 

 

No one would admit to starting the rumors that Warren’s dad was in prison. It wasn’t true, obviously. A month at their new home and Barron was still at large; possibly responsible for another attack but nothing definite. Then the rumors started. He could only deny the prison part, not the insistent, “Well is he a criminal or not?”

Barron had taught him many things but, funny enough, lying wasn’t one of them.

A year a half later and he was no closer to finding friends. There had been a few possibilities at first but Warren wasn’t interested in comparing criminal fathers’ rap sheets and which one was cooler. So he wasn’t good enough for the goody goods and apparently thought he was too good for the delinquents.

Warren was starting to agree with them. He didn’t seem to fit anywhere.

He tried to keep the worst of the bullying from his mom and, in turn, his mom tried to keep things from him so he wouldn’t worry. She tried, but he had learned to be silent; so he could hear her crying at night. He wasn’t the only one who had lost all of their friends. She had also lost her job at the GSB. Apparently, spouses of super villains couldn’t be government employees. Their old house sold for way less than it was worth, again, because of Barron. She was still able to buy a small house in an alright neighborhood and keep up with the bills with a job as a secretary. But she didn’t have anyone but Warren to lean on, so the least he could do was keep his problems to himself.

That had lasted shorter than he wanted but longer than he had thought honestly.

“Hey, Peace!”

Warren ignored them, he was already having a crappy day.

Jackson cut him off while his friends stayed behind Warren, blocking any retreat.

“Hey, I just wanted to give you this.” Jackson said, handing Warren a slip of paper.

There were numbers on it, written like a phone number, but it looked fake.

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“It’s a phone number for your mom.”

Warren froze.

“Yeah, I saw this guy on the street and he looked like he was from prison so I told him all about how your mom was into that, and he gave me his number to give to her.”

Warren was still motionless but he was no longer frozen, if anything he could feel his temperature rising.

“But if he doesn’t work out I’m sure he’s got lots of loser friends she would like. They could just…”

Warren didn’t even notice the paper was on fire as it dropped to the ground

“...pass her around.”

Despite the sudden fear in Jackson’s eyes, Warren didn’t actually realize he was on fire until he had thrown Jackson over a lunch table.

Everyone was screaming and running out of the cafeteria, in fear of him, and for a moment it felt good. The fear and sadness disappeared and he was strong and powerful. The fire covered him but instead of burning, it protected him.

Unlike his father.

His father.

Warren stared at his arms in growing horror. No. No, not like him. Any power but his. He shook his arms, trying to turn off the flames but only succeeded in throwing the fire around the room. It was out of control and burning hot.

Alarms were blaring and the sprinkler system turned on, soaking his clothes and creating puddles but only sizzling into steam against heat of the flames engulfing him and now racing over the walls of the school.

Warren could barely wonder why the water wasn’t putting out the fire over his own going fear.

The fire department would be there soon.

So would the police.

They were going to arrest him for attacking someone and setting the school on fire.

He was just like his father.

Warren panicked and ran.

He didn’t really remember running into his classroom and curling up in a corner but it wasn’t too hard to find him, firefighters just followed the fiery path. They couldn’t get close to him so they tried soaking him with buckets of water and normal water hoses. Every time they put it out it would start right up again. It was during his seventh drenching that his mom finally ran into the room. He could see the panic on her face, the fear. Later he learned that she thought his father had come to take him and had set the school on fire in the process. It was in the split second that she saw him that he thought he saw her fear shift. That she was afraid of him. The look quickly vanished as she ran toward him.

She was warned to stay back but she ran to Warren and threw her arms around him. The firemen were all startled to see the fire die down the closer she got to him until it was extinguished before their eyes.

Those unaware of his mom’s powers thought that it was the sight of his mother that had calmed him down, and they were right, to an extent. Most members of the Peace family could influence peace in some way or another; some helped calm emotions, others used telepathy or empathy as mediators. Constance Peace was able to subdue the power of supers in her immediate vicinity and, if necessary, lock the powers away for a time by touching them. Those kind of powers scared other Supers, though they would never openly admit it. His mom had been an outcast on some level in the Super community since her power placement at Sky High. At least that was what his father had told him.

He ended up causing fire damage to almost half the school. Most powers didn’t emerge in such a dramatic and public way but the Bureau tried to be prepared for all situations, so the public story was that he had brought fireworks to school and had accidentally set them all off at once; making him look stupid instead of homicidal. Agents talked to the witnesses and helped them understand that they didn’t see a boy burst into flames at will and throw fireballs around the school, but rather a scared boy who couldn’t get his backpack off while fireworks shot out of it. Apparently some people would believe anything authority figures told them and those who didn’t, mainly the firemen, had to sign confidentiality agreements to protect Warren’s identity.

On top of that, now he and his mom had to move again.

But this time it was all Warren’s fault.

 

 


	3. By Life

 

“He is not apprehended by reason, but by life.” - War and Peace

 

 

 

It had been a year since Warren’s powers had emerged. A year since he had set his school on fire. A year since the move. He couldn’t figure out why they had bothered to move again, nothing was different here. If anything it was worse. He didn’t even want to try making friends again. No, he did try a little at first but apparently he was developing a look. With the emergence of his powers came a few noticeable patches of bright red hair. He couldn’t dye them, bleach them, nothing would take. Which left them needing to find a school with lax enough dress codes to allow his hair in. But that was only the second problem when it came to going to school.

He had been informed by the GSB that he couldn’t attend a public school until he had his powers under control. Easier said than done. Warren refused to use them. They were his father’s powers and he wanted nothing to do with them. Somehow he had out reasoned his mom on the matter. They needed to settle into their new city, for things to calm down. His powers only complicated things. He couldn’t stay home alone every day and she wouldn’t have the time to take away from a new job to help him with his powers. So, she had agreed to lock them away, if only for a little while she had said. Warren had been able to stretch that ‘little while’ out to a year now. After a few months though, he had stopped looking at her when she did it, he couldn’t bear to see the guilt in her eyes everytime. It wasn’t right to keep asking her, making her think this was how she needed to protect him. But he didn’t think he could deal with guilt being replaced with the fear he had seen that first day in the school.

He didn’t tell her that he was constantly cold now. His body temperature was 98.6 degrees but that was now below the baseline for a pyro. When he started feeling warmth grow from his gut he knew it was time for his mom to lock it up again.

To the world, and most importantly the GSB, his powers were under control. He could go to school and keep to himself as much as possible.

Warren turned the corner and frowned up at the apartment complex. The house in Camdenville still hadn’t been sold. If he let himself think about why that probably was he got an ache where his flames were just out of reach.

This was the best they could do for now. It wasn’t bad. The complex was old enough that it had large shade trees. They were on the third floor, two bedroom, 900 square feet. They didn’t need anything more really but he had ended up hating the place for what it represented. Loss. A seemingly never ending spiral of loss.

With a deep sigh he opened the front door and trudged in, stopping as the door swung shut behind him.

Something wasn’t right.

Looking around, everything seemed to be in place but… the air felt different, smelled…

Warren’s eyes widen as he recognized the familiar hint of a lit matchstick.

“Dad?” he called out, barely able to get his voice louder than a whisper.

He startled as a chuckle sounded from the kitchen and his father walked around the corner into view, moving like he belonged there, looking like he did as well, wearing the same leather jacket he had on when Warren had seen him last.

Barron smirked,“I should have known you would make me the moment you walked in. I wouldn’t expect any less from a Battle.”

“Dad!” Warren stood in shock for a moment before he found himself running forward, Barron pulling him into his arms.

Two years of loving and hating his father simultaneously and here he was like he had never left. Warren tried to find the hate, tried to be angry but all he felt was relief as he began crying into the man’s shoulder.

“As much as I want to just be here and hold you son, we’ll have time for this later.”

Warren pulled back, “What are you doing here? They’re going to catch you. We’re probably under surveillance.”

“Give me a little credit Warren,” Barron chided, “I’ve known their schedule for a while now and I’ve waited as long as I can stand.” Keeping his arm around Warren, he opened the front door, led him out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Warren struggled to keep up with Barron’s pace, almost tripping down to the next landing, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Warren couldn’t hide the confused hope as he asked, “You...you’re taking me with you?”

This time Barron almost tripped as they reached the bottom, turning to him with an expression Warren couldn’t read, “Of course I am. I would have taken you with me the first time, it just didn’t work out.”

Barron began pulling him along again but Warren pulled back as he finally realized they were leaving that instant and the only thing he had with him was the backpack he hadn’t even had a chance to take off.

“But I don’t have-”

“Warren,” Barron commanded, “we only have a short window. You have to leave everything.”

“But Dad, Mom’s not here.”

“Exactly,” Barron answered simply, almost dragging Warren along now.

“But we have to wait for her!”

“She’s not coming. She would never agree to come with us.”

“But-”

“There’s no time!”

They were one building away from the road when screeching tires sounded and his mother’s car came into view before them, the front jumping the curb before it jolted to a stop.

“Damn it!” Barron snapped, pulling Warren back as his mother hurried out of the car. “How did she know?”

“Warren!” Constance yelled, running toward them across the lawn.

Warren couldn’t keep his feet under him as Barron continued to pull him back the closer his mother came.

“Stay back Constance,” Barron warned, “I only came for my son.”

“You can’t have him!” Connie yelled, still moving swiftly forward across the lawn.

“I told you to stay back!” Barron yelled. Aware of the distance when her power became effective Barron braced himself as flames erupted from his hands toward his ex-wife stopping her progress completely a few yards away.

“Dad, no!” Warren yelled. He grabbed at the flaming arm but cried out and drew back when his arms were singed.

The flames disappeared as Barron turned to his son, confusion on his face. “You were burnt?”

Warren’s already cold body froze. “I… I…”

Connie tried to move forward again, “Barron…” She stopped as he held out his fist, flames dancing on his knuckles.

“How?” Barron demanded.

“I don’t have my powers,” Warren answered meekly.

Barron shook his head, “You burned down your school.”

Guilt filled Warren; that had been an accident. “I did. I had them but I… I was dangerous.”

Something clicked in Barron’s eyes and he once again turned on his ex-wife, “You!” he yelled, fireballs forming in his hands, “You took his powers!”

Connie dove aside as the fire shot toward her. Barron took aim again but paused when a deep groaning noise sounded, then he grabbed Warren and leapt out of the way as a tree behind Connie crashed down on top of her.

“Mom!” Warren pulled out of his father’s grip and ran to his mother. She lay near the base of the tree; her legs pinned beneath the trunk. Warren couldn’t tell if they were broken but he was more worried about her head. One of the lower branches had hit her on the way down and blood begun to trickle down her forehead. He knelt at her side, gentling shaking her, “Mom?”

She didn’t move.

“Mom, please wake up.”

A strong hand gripped his arm and jerked him to his feet. “Let’s go, Warren.”

Warren stumbled as he was led away, his mind moving slowly, “But Mom’s hurt.”

“She’ll be fine,” Barron dismissed.

“You don’t know that.”

Barron spun around, fire in his eyes, “Do you think she came running after us without calling for reinforcements? Some Supers will be here any minute. They’ll help her.”

Supers. He hadn’t called them heroes because he didn’t think that they were. He thought he was the hero.

“No!” Warren pulled away. “A hero wouldn’t just leave her. A hero wouldn’t have hurt her. You’re a villain, I’m not going anywhere with you!” He lunged forward to push his father but had his head jerked back as an increasingly hot hand took hold of the back of his neck. He swung his fist at his father but cried out as his father grabbed and twisted his wrist. Warren stiffened as his face was brought in close.

“A hero wouldn’t leave her?” Smoke was rolling off Barron’s clothes. “For someone so young you seem to think you know so much about how the world works.” He took Warren back to his mother’s side and forced his head down to look at her. “Do you think I did that on purpose?”

Warren bit back a cry; pain shot through his body as his father’s hands ignited and began to burn his skin.

“I love your mother. I protected her. Have you ever wondered where the scars on her arm came from? Why she’s afraid of heights? So called ‘heroes’ did that to her!”

“Dad!” He couldn’t take the pain any longer, he felt his vision begin to fade. “Stop, please!” he sobbed. The flaming hands released him and he fell to his knees, crying as he curled down on himself. The pain only intensified as the air blew across his burnt flesh.

He couldn’t see his father but heard him move away from him, his voice soft and pained, “Warren, I didn’t…” he couldn’t seem to finish. It was the first time he had ever witnessed his father speechless.

The air suddenly whistled deeply around them, the pressure building in Warren’s head until the earth exploded behind him knocking him to his side.

Blinking away the dizziness he turned his body to see what had happened. Dust hung in the air around a small crater only a short distance across the lawn from him. A figure stood up and turned toward Warren, cape flapping in a breeze.

It was the Commander. Warren had never seen him in person but there was no mistaking him.

“Are you alright, son?” he asked. The hero began to step forward when a wall of fire erupted from the crater, blasting him across the grass.

Barron shakily rose from the hole, covered in dirt. “He’s my son,” he spat, “You stay away from him.”

The Commander was already back on his feet. “Battle, make this easier on yourself and give up.”

“That’s all you’ve got Stronghold? ‘Please give up?’ They must cower at your feet,” Barron smirked.

The Commander glanced at Warren then back at Barron, “At least my family doesn’t.”

Barron’s hands clenched, “You’re going to regret that.”

“I don’t think so Battle. You’re working on emotions. You didn’t come with a plan this time and without that you’re just like all the other hot headed pyros.”

“You know, you’re right. I didn’t have a plan but I can think up a few right now,” Barron’s eyes never left the Commander, “Warren, come here.”

The Commander tensed. “You’d use your own son as a shield?”

Barron ignored him, his voice gentle as he continued, “Warren, I’m not the villain, son, but I’m not a hero either. There’s a reason they wear masks and keep their identity a secret, it’s all a lie. Heroes don’t exist.”

“Warren,” the Commander directed, “Stay where you are.”

Warren stared between them, at a loss of what to do.

Barron shifted slightly, now able to partially hold Warren’s gaze, “He’s one of the heroes that hurt your mother.”

The Commander stiffened. “That’s not fair, Barron.”

“What do you think they’ll do to me, Warren? If you just come over here you’ll save me.”

“Battle!” The Commander barked, almost looking panicked.

Warren looked between the two supers, his father now holding a hand out toward him and the Commander, who seemed to be muttering under his breath. He carefully got to his feet.

“That’s right son.”

He took one step forward when he heard a rush of wind and his father shot a column of fire into the air above him.

Between the father and son fell Jetstream.

“Josie!” the Commander cried as he began to run forward.

“Hold it, Stronghold,” Barron warned, aiming his still lit hands at the fallen woman.

The Commander stopped in his tracks, fear transforming his face.

Barron laughed, “Did you really think I would do that to my son? But I guess that was the point, to make you believe that I would. I just needed to create the need for you to call dear Josie down here. Thanks for that.”

“If you hurt her…”

“You’ll what, say please? You know, I never had anything against Josie, other than the fact that she married you, Stronghold.” As he spoke his flames grew larger. “So I just want you to know that this is your fault.” He drew back his hands to fire.

“No!”

As Barron brought his hands forward the fire seemed to evaporate into the air. He looked at his hands in confusion, then, as one, Warren and his father looked at the fallen tree. Connie laid there, blood matting her hair, watching the scene through the branches.

“Mom!”

“Constance,” Barron said, disappointment evident in his voice. In the next instant the Commander slammed into him and drove him into the front of the club house. As rubble fell, Warren lost track of what was happening, the building was being destroyed but it felt like only a minute later that the Commander emerged, dragging an unconscious Barron with him, both soaking wet.

No wonder it had been so short, they must have ended up in the pool. Barron’s fire would have been useless.

It was at that moment the rest of the reinforcements decided to arrive. The Commander passed Barron to GSB agents then lifted the tree off his mom. Warren stood watching everyone hurrying around him. His brain was still trying to catch up to what was happening. He may have been overlooked even longer if Jetstream hadn’t called the paramedics over and suddenly they wouldn’t leave him alone.

He looked down at his charred wrist; did he even feel the pain? He didn’t dare feel the back of his neck. He knew it hurt but it didn’t seem to be reaching his brain. The paramedics said the he was going into shock and led him over to the ambulance. The news crews showed up as Barron started to regain consciousness. Power repressing bands were put on the infamous Barron Battle in front of the cameras. A cheer even went up. Barron looked disgusted to even be close to them. There was no mention that the injured citizens were his ex-wife and son; they were just an unlucky family caught in the crossfire of a great battle.

“You think this is the end, Commander?” Barron asked, mockingly, as he was led away. “I’ll get out and then you’ll pay!”

The Commander and Jetstream ignored his yelling and came over to Warren as he was being helped into his mother’s ambulance. Jetstream smiled at him, he could see that some of her hair and parts of her costume had been cinged. Her smile turned sad as she looked at his burns, “Don’t worry, Warren, you and your mom are going to be fine.”

He nodded absently then suddenly turned to The Commander and asked, “Did you really hurt my mom?”

The Commander, or Stronghold, as his father had called him, uncomfortably looked past him to his mother, “I…it’s more complicated than that, son.”

Warren felt the pain from his burns begin to grow but he set his jaw and stared at The Commander heatedly, “I’m Barron Battle’s son. You stay the hell away from us, we don’t need your help.”

The doors closed in the surprised couple’s faces. As the ambulance started up, Warren looked out the back window, over the reporters and police. His father was being hauled into the back a GBS transport, a huge smile on his face.


End file.
